“But Then I Met Cara”: Women On Finding Love While Chronically Ill

“Initially I felt responsible for my last breakup, as it happened when I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia,” says Chloe Bennet, 34, from Florida, US, who was 27 when she was diagnosed (the condition comes with extreme tiredness and widespread muscle pain; the cause is unknown). “I wondered if anyone would want to date someone who needed constant rest and had unpredictable energy levels. It was a dark period for me. I felt betrayed by my body and thought it would block my chances of falling in love again… But then, I met Cara.”

Dating at the best of times can trigger feelings of unworthiness and bring insecurities to the fore, and that’s before adding in a condition that many potential partners aren’t equipped to handle. People with chronic illnesses face stigma, as research has found time and time again. They often experience lower self-worth, and feelings of shame and guilt. Research has also found that they often blame themselves for their conditions, and that women are more likely to have a long term health condition than men. They can end up anticipating stigma from others. That might make romance all the more important when, of course, people with chronic illnesses do fall in love, forming long-term relationships with people unfazed by illness. Chronic conditions might complicate the journey to love, but they don’t have to change the destination.

Getting diagnosed was a relief for Bennet, as she finally had an explanation for her symptoms which included extreme fatigue ​​— but then fear hit. What would this mean for her relationship? Bennet hoped she and her ex-girlfriend could “face it together”, but instead their year-long relationship started to break down over the best part of another year. “I noticed her patience wearing thin whenever I cancelled plans or chose to rest instead of going out,” Bennet says. “To show that I wasn’t too much for her, I overstepped my own limits until I experienced burnout”. It took a long time for her to see that a compatible partner would accept her whole self “without judging through the lens of illness”. But at the same time, she feels her ex can’t be blamed because “chronic illness remains incomprehensible until you experience it personally.”

Relationship psychotherapist Esther Perel is famous for saying that what we once looked to a whole village for, we now hope to find in one individual. That has pressurised love. While Bennet can’t go out as often as she might like, she’s still able to be a good partner and show love in other ways. She might not be able to be the entire “village” (then again, can anyone truly fulfill this?) and her partner gets it. “Her presence always made me feel that my condition didn’t impose any burden on her,” she says. “Our relationship isn’t perfect, of course. I sometimes feel guilty because I can't match her energy or join her in spontaneous adventures. We share our feelings and recognise those times together without holding onto any resentment.” 

There has been research too, though limited, into the “burden” of being in a partnership with and caring for someone with chronic illness. (Burden is the word this academic paper uses, which is exactly how people with chronic conditions fear they will be seen by their partners.) Kirsty Corvan, a therapist working specifically with people who have a chronic illness, says it’s important to acknowledge the “strain”, rather than the “burden”, health can have on a relationship, and that communicating about it is vital. “Being really clear (as the person with illness) on what’s going on for you that day or moment is key, so that your partner isn't going into the situation blind,” she says. “I see many clients try to 'push through' the pain so that they are 'less of a burden' to their partner. However, what this actually does is build up resentment in the ill person who begins to think things like ‘they have no idea of what I really go through’ and this feeling of being misunderstood and unseen. It also leaves the other partner scrambling in the dark as to what they've done wrong.” 

Bennet says she and her partner reach a compromise when she can’t stick to the original plan. Ultimately, the need to be honest and direct has strengthened their bond “because we put extra effort into understanding each other”. And that should go both ways, as Corvan says “while a lot of the conversation is surrounding the difficulty of the ill person, it’s important to acknowledge the emotional impact on the other partner.” The aforementioned research found worse mental health was commonly experienced by the well partner.

But this takes us back to the village. We can’t get everything from one person, even without health being an obstacle. That doesn’t stop us from trying, though. Corvan has seen that in relationships where one partner has chronic illness, there can be a greater risk of swinging that way when social plans frequently need to be cancelled or postponed. “Sometimes the couple become more isolated from their larger social circle, putting more pressure on the relationship to provide 'everything' as they are missing out on those needs from friendships and socialising,” she says.

Sometimes though, the reality is that the chronically ill partner is simply let down. Charlotte (who didn’t want to share her last name), 35, from London has ulcerative colitis (inflammation of the lower end of the digestive system) and chronic migraines. She hasn’t found past partners to be understanding. “With colitis flare-ups, I need to be close to the toilet, which can limit what I can and can't do,” she says. “One of my worst experiences was with an ex-partner when I was going through testing and various medications, and he said 'This is really hard for me' with no acknowledgement or support for what I was experiencing.” She too began to feel like a burden, and their relationship soon ended. “I think relationships should be supportive, and not make you worse, especially when it comes to having a chronic illness,” Charlotte adds. Now three years single, she finds life is much more peaceful. She’s able to focus on managing her condition, and feels clearer about the qualities she’d need in a future partner. 

Being in a relationship before the chronic illness is diagnosed might mean couples, having a stronger foundation, are more likely to stick together, Corvan says. But at the same time, it means that when the chronic condition is identified, the relationship will change. That presents its own pressures. Lorraine Collins, a psychotherapist, says it’s common that “the illness reshapes daily life”. It creates a new normal. “Chronic illness can lead to shifts in roles, where one partner may suddenly find themselves in a caretaker position, which can create feelings of resentment or inadequacy,” she says. “Cultural expectations, particularly in communities where caring for family members is a shared responsibility, can amplify these tensions. It’s essential to recognise that the relationship may require a recalibration, where both partners must engage in open, honest discussions about their needs, fears, and expectations.”

Picking the right partner isn’t to be underestimated. Corvan notes, on the darker side of things, that being chronically ill and in a relationship makes a person more vulnerable to the well person. Ria Wolstenholme, 28, who lives in London, has endometriosis and found, during her early twenties, that dating people who didn’t recognise her pain affected her own perception of it (endometriosis involves endometrial tissue growing in places it shouldn’t, causing extreme pain). “It was difficult to find the words to explain how it made me feel about my body to my boyfriends over the years,” she says, as endometriosis makes her painfully bloated, lethargic and depressed. “I usually need bed rest, sleep and painkillers to ride flare ups out,” says Ria. “It also impacts sex. Explaining that to a new partner feels so uncomfortable the first time around, but in some ways acts as a test to see if they’re mature and sensitive enough to take me seriously and listen to my needs.” The biggest challenge she’s encountered is finding someone who understands when plans need to be changed or she needs to be taken care of. But she’s also experienced men questioning if “the pain is actually that bad” and whether she’s using it as an excuse to “say no to sex”. “It can really mess with your head when the person who’s meant to care about you makes you doubt if your pain is real, so for a long time, I convinced myself I was just being dramatic”. 

But partners who show up in times of needs are there, Wolstenholme has found. Her current partner has taken it upon himself to learn about endometriosis. He cooks anti-inflammatory foods when she’s in pain, has bought a hot water bottle for when she stays over, and most critically, asks how he can help. “It’s taught me a lot about the importance of not only voicing my needs but also letting someone else look after you. Chronic illness comes with many ups and downs, but the right person will make you feel like you don’t have to manage it alone.”

Disclosing a chronic condition to a new partner can be nerve-wracking. Corvan recommends doing it early on (so long as the ill person is ready) so that other person can decide if they are invested enough to work with it. However, the fear of rejection can slow down when this conversation takes place. Collins says “waiting too long might lead to feelings of betrayal or mistrust”, making timing a balancing act. Bennet told Cara about her condition three weeks into dating and at first “minimised its impact”. Bennet was asked: What does this mean for you? “At that moment I realised she was different from anyone else.” Both Corvan and Collins believe both partners need good self-care routines that are their own and don’t involve the other partner. This, along with compassion and good communication, they say, is what people dealing with chronic illnesses do so well in successful romantic relationships. All of that work lays the foundation for a strong, healthy, and fun relationship.